When Worlds Collide, a BMFM Fanfic
by DarkStorm Wolfsbane
Summary: The evils that had plagued the Martian Mice for so long refused to lay quiet and beaten, returning with a vengeance. As the Bros return to Earth, two new figures stand to rise to the challenges faced... if they don't kill each other first...
1. Chapter 1

The soft thrum from the engine as it settled into its idle soothed Chris' nerves as she listened for any sound out of place. Old, broken and worn parts lay scattered around her, testament to the chaos made order of the six-cylinder's rebirth. A ghost of a smile played across her delicate face for an instant before disappearing behind her usually emotionless mask. "Old man Barker's going to be pleased with you, so long as he keeps that idiot of a son away from now on."

Barker had brought the Oldsmobile to the petite mechanic yet again after his thirty-something son 'borrowed' it, seizing the transmission's gears and nearly destroying the engine at the same time. The car and mechanic had become very good friends in the year she had taken up residence in the converted warehouse in Chicago, although she was fairly certain the car's owner was getting tired of having to bring it in at least once a month for repairs and maintenance.

She gazed at the chassis that sat a few feet from her and sighed. "He never can say no to that feckless waste of space, can he..." It always seemed to be a waste of her talent, her neighbor's money, and the vehicle's innate strength, and she had tried many times to get the man to understand his son's driving habits, but how can you get someone to stop thinking of their car as a soulless machine and not sound like you need a long vacation in a padded room? Especially when you say the car told you? She shrugged softly. "Somehow, we'll get him to get it... Won't we..."

The deep golden Mustang settled in the garage rumbled to life for a moment, and the smile returned to her face. "Yeah, we will Amber. Soon."

Nice, bright sunny days in Chicago were not to be wasted, and the afternoon found Chris sprawled on a weather-beaten chaise on the roof of her building. The warmth from the sun soaked into her tired muscles, loosening them in preparation of the next day's finishing work on the Olds 98. Her mind wandered as the wind caught a strand of her long chestnut hair, forcing her to idly tuck it behind her ear again. The city looked like a war zone, including the district she now called home: buildings and homes now empty shells, monstrous holes in the pavement, odd reports reaching her ears of at best really good cosplayers and furries running amok all across the city.

Chris knew the signs of war and thought she had neatly cut herself off from the majority of the outside world to avoid it. It seemed to have followed her yet again as her keen ears caught the sound of the three odd motorcycles that had been hanging around the Last Chance garage for ages, engines revving at an unnatural pitch and making her groan. Whenever she heard those engines, disaster and a day locked away indoors soon followed. "Damn, and the sun's so nice today too."

She didn't have time to reach the door on the roof to retreat to the safety of her home before she realized the bikes were on her street, tearing past her building, with three heavily modified war wagons in hot pursuit. The last thing she remembered before her mind sunk into the blackness and her eternal personal hell swallowed her once more was the howl of a mini-gun and the sounds and smells of explosions.

* * * * * * * * * *

**Chris... Chris, can you hear us? Come on, Chris, it's time to wake up! The roof at night is not a good place to be sleeping in a bikini!**

Chris opened her cold grey eyes and almost whimpered as she struggled to slowly sit up. Her head throbbed and any benefits she had received earlier from her sunbathing were now long gone. "How... how long this time, Amber..."

**Seven hours. The sun's been down for a little under one hour,** answered the young-sounding disembodied female voice in Chris' head.

"They aren't getting any better... are they..." She knew the answer before the voice could answer her. "The flashbacks are getting worse and lasting longer. And those Bikers... They bring the trouble with them." She slowly worked her legs under her and stood, weak knees threatening to buckle with each step as she stumbled down the stairs into her home.

**It seems so. Snake's worried, we all are. If that trio that hangs at Charley's are the trigger then maybe discussing it with them might help?**

"Yeah, it could if I take a breaker bar with me to persuade them." She grumbled as she stripped and stepped into the shower. The hairline tracery of scars that covered her body were a constant reminder to her of the hell she had gone through and had been forced to relive yet again earlier. "Maybe I should go over. I can at least check out if that solder table's working out for her.

Twenty minutes later, clean and dressed in a navy wife-beater, a pair of jeans that had seen far better days and jungle boots, Chris meandered her way towards the Last Chance garage and home of a fellow lady gearhead, Charley Davidson. All of her senses were alert as she moved, confirming she had no tails as she seemed to attract, and as she approached she clearly heard the sounds of three distinct male voices and the higher tone of Charley attempting to calm at least one of them down. 'Wha... joking about that fight earlier with no regard to the damage they caused. Men... never change...'

**HEY! I resemble that remark! You know if I could I'd be right there with you, ready and willing to show them a slice of hell with you!** The male voice cut through her thoughts like a knife, indignant as always and looking for a fight. The determination and power in the voice seemed to give a harder edge to the cold mask Chris wore.

'Snake, shush, you don't quite qualify and you know it. I'm trying to get your core built so you can join me out here again, but it takes time and resources, and the resources are in short supply right now. That and the busted control arm on your rear axle isn't helping matters any. But thank you. Now to say hello... Our way.'

The tiny woman paused for a moment to assure herself once more that she had no followers and that her presence hadn't yet been noticed, opened the door and silently stalked in.

* * * * * * * * * *

"Oh man, babe, you should have seen it! We almost HAD that stinkfish this time! I don't know how he does it, but he's got more escape routes all over the place than a politician has lies!"

Charley held her hand to her head as if it was in pain. The overly-excited albino Martian was giving her a raging headache and it showed around her green eyes. The other two Mice weren't helping matters any, filling in with their own anecdotes whenever the albino paused for breath, which seemed to be a rare thing. She murmured a prayer thanking whatever saint watched over her garage for nothing else going wrong, then took it back as soon as the rough, low voice brought even Vinnie to a standstill.

"If you haven't figured out that your enemy will always plan on needing to escape at any time anywhere and by any means necessary, then you need to pull your heads out of your collective tailpipes before you get a civilian killed."

Of all the people she never wanted to know about the Bros, the stone cold woman who looked at them all from the short hallway with dead eyes was high on that list. Chris was unsettling at best, downright terrifying at worst, and could go into a frenzy with no warning and without even a crack in her lack of expression. It didn't help any that she tended to have federal tag-a-longs unless she was in a need-to-care mood. 'Here's hoping she cares...'

"Um, Charley-girl? Who...?" Throttle raised a golden-brown eyebrow to the mechanic, his tone confirming his query demanded an answer.

"Who I am is of no concern to you." The newcomer leveled her gaze on the gold Mouse. He opened his mouth to retort but paused, closing his jaw with an audible click. Even with his shades, her eyes bored into him and held him in their empty depths. "I am of the full opinion that despite any attempts you may make to argue to the contrary, you are needlessly putting innocent civilians at risk with your antics. Whether they are a home owner or homeless, there are still people living in these areas that you so casually fight through. It's a wonder no one has died yet."

The massive grey Mouse's antennae twitched slightly as she spoke, unconsciously watching her body's cues and becoming confused by her. "That may be true, ma'am, but we have certain... safeguards that won't let us harm civilians, even inadvertently."

The stranger's eyes locked with Modo. "Your bikes, I am aware of them. Their chatter some days is enough to make a person go on the bandwagon to silence them." That statement brought the full attention of everyone in the room to bear on her. No one but the Bikers ever heard their bikes. "They do not control the weapons systems of your enemies. Nor can you rely on them to handle all errant enemy missiles. They are good, but not that good if there is too much going on around them to deal with. It is inevitable that something will go wrong. Be ready to accept the consequences when it does."

With that she turned and began to head back to the door, then paused as she passed through the garage bay as if she was listening to something. "And check the top right bolt on your bike's head, big... whatever you are. It isn't seated correctly and could strip the housing." She left them in stunned silence for several long moments, three and a half pairs of eyes transfixed on the door she had exited from.

"She... heard Sweetheart..."

Throttle turned to face Charley and she sighed softly. "The was unexpected, I assure you. I had a feeling that was coming, but I was kinda hoping she would have made her appearance when you three were out somewhere..."

Charley flopped down into the beat-up office chair and began to enter information into the search engine she opened on the equally rough-looking computer before her. "Her name is Christine Hendrix, age twenty-two, she's ex-Army or whatever they call themselves after they get out on a medical discharge, and," she paused as she hit Enter, the monitor flickering as the search engine pulled up her query, "if you can read through this, she's got a reason to be as crazy as she is..."

"What happened?" Throttle leaned over her shoulder and blinked as he realized all of the results on the first page were from reputable news sources. "Is this... all her?"

"Yep. I'd stick with the news sources if you want accurate facts." Charley nodded faintly. "The rest are discussion boards and even a few hate sites. She's not popular among those that aren't in her acquaintance... You'll see why." She stood and handed off the chair to the Mouse who took the proffered seat as he clicked the first link. "Even with her creepy personae, she's not a bad person. Just crossed, I guess you'd say. Come on, Modo, let's go take a look at Darlin'. If Chris says something's off, it doesn't hurt to look into it."

* * * * * * * * * *

Through the night, Throttle poured over the pages the search engine offered to him, stunned once again into silence as the life of the petite iceberg known as Christine paraded before his eyes and offered him a glimpse into who she had been and who she was now. So engrossed in the information he had gotten, that the cool touch of the grey's prosthetic fingers on his shoulder had him yelp, his fur on end.

"Sorry bro, but you've been going over that through the night. It's eight in the morning. Go catch some sleep before you make a pillow out of the keyboard again." Modo looked about how Throttle felt at that moment, drained and running on vapors.

Rubbing the ridge of his nose, he nodded. "Yeah. Charley-girl wasn't kidding when she said Christine had reasons." he stood and swayed slightly, leaning on the subtly-proffered arm in gratitude. "Sleep first, then we'll discuss this new development. I don't think I'll be making much sense in a few more minutes."

Throttle's feet stumbled a few times as he made his way back to the shared room the Mice used when they crashed at the garage on automatic. "Sounds like a plan, Throttle. I'll sleep out here and keep an ear open for trouble."

* * * * * * * * * *

Caliber bound back his long mane and gazed out the ship's canopy at the stars around them. "It doesn't matter how many times I look out into that vast darkness, it still amazes me that we're here and we've made it this far."

"Considering the sheer number of variables and odds against my birth, let alone my launch, I believe your comment falls under the phrase of an understatement."

He chuckled softly and caressed the bulkhead. "You are a miracle child if I do say so myself Kite. Mag's pride and joy alongside his children."

The floor under his bare feet throbbed faintly in a way he had learned meant the vessel he now called his partner was pleased, and if it was possible, would be blushing. "We made the hyperdrive jump as he projected with no issue despite the proximity to the surface. Next up, we get the mineral samples from the target asteroids Command wants and return with the same flair as our departure, then we'll get the recognition Wingmen and Wings should be getting." His deep voice grumbled the last as the tip of his tail twitched.

Kite's cameras scanned her partner as she sighed, an affectation she had learned from the Mice that had built her body during her 'gestation' period. "We are still a fairly new division on Mars, Caliber. It's not their fault other Martians don't see us in the same light or capacity as they do Bikers. It's up to us to prove our honor and integrity, and do so in ways that don't shame us... like drunken brawls with less civilized Bikers."

The reminder of a night a week before their launch made the lanky russet Mouse wince. "They insulted us, then dared to insult Magnum! Those backwater Bikers had it coming to them!"

"At least none of us had to figure out how to get you out of lock-up after that incident. And you did win." The air was filled with the ship's laughter, the voice she had chosen for herself smooth and melodic.

He sniffed and grinned proudly. "Yep, I did. They thought this ol' russet was too drunk to give them the tail-whipping they deserved. It'd take more than the ale I had to get me that wasted! And you did a good job in keeping their bikes out of the mix!"

He gave the ship a thumbs-up as he settled his frame into the pilot's chair, lounging back and making himself comfortable before pulling the helmet down around his head and ears. "Time's wasting, my girl," he said as the layers of displays popped up and gave him the data he needed, "let's get Command and those stuffed shirts the samples they want and beat tail back!"

"Aye, partner. Local space is clear of all enemy vessels and flotsam. We are clear for hyperdrive on your mark." A ponderous moan began to build from the bowels of the small craft as the prototype engines began powering up. "Please enter our coordinates whenever you are ready."

A cursor tracked his eye movements while his brain processed and confirmed their new objectives. "Mark, Kite. Let's fly fast and free, partner!"

The sleek lines of the ship moved forward and slipped into a ripple in space, leaving nothing but a rumored whisper of their presence behind.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, you're saying that babe's a total whacko then?" Vinnie's lack of tact hadn't faded even with the new situation they found themselves in, interrupting Throttle's dissemination of the research he had done overnight. "That's a pity, she is such a hottie!"

Charley glared death at the albino as the other two Mice groaned. "Vincent, are you ever going to learn to not be such an idiot around Charley?"

"What? It's true! Although no one is as hot as Charley, right babe?" Vinnie batted his eyes at the woman in question, making her roll hers in annoyance.

Throttle turned to Modo, then to his cruiser, before answering Vinnie's first question. "She has emotional issues and damage I think we can all relate to. She has all the symptom's of severe shell-shock, and trust issues if I can hazard a guess there."

"Yeah, she's got her emotions locked up pretty tight from what I could tell." Modo leaned back into the much-abused couch as he thought. "There were absolutely no tells she was giving away. Her body was as expressionless as her face and voice. It sounds like that incident in Afghanistan caused it, or at least solidified her anti-social nature." He let his mind sift through the data and photos the internet had supplied them as his deep rumble of a voice continued. "Yeah, I'd say that was the trigger. The only survivor of an IED that took out the lead vehicles of her convoy, inexplicably blown clear of the attack and having no injuries except for scratches on her body that healed quickly. Put on trial for treason and murder and going through that nightmare before the prosecution was forced to acquit due to a simple lack of any proof. All the while still serving until the acquittal and being turfed on a medical discharge." He tilted his head as his one eye peered at Charley. "And she had friends in that convoy as well that died, four from their days in Basic? Am I right?"

"Three did, the fourth was a bit further back in the line and survived, but killed himself in a car wreck shortly after his return to the States." Charley's voice grew soft as she spoke. "They had been a very tight group, according to the reports, since they had met in Basic, and even their Commanding Officers couldn't find ways to separate them. They fit together perfectly and just seemed to... know... if the others were in any kind of trouble." She looked out the window in the direction of the warehouse. "There's something the news reports don't know. She has all of their cars. Including the one that the last one died in, or what's left of it. I don't know why she has them all, other than she said they'd swore."

Modo and Throttle exchanged glances. They swore? "It had taken a bit of a fight to get the second car, Billie Campbell's Camaro. Even though they had all made legal and binding wills shortly after beginning their active service, his family fought her tooth and nail over the car. Thankfully for her, that episode didn't set off any media flags, or it would have been yet another media circus." her green eyes grew thoughtful as she recalled what little the other had proffered of herself. "She mentioned how much scavenging she had done over the totaled wreck site. She wouldn't go into detail other than she had to get as many of the original pieces, or the car would change..."

Vinnie shook his head. "Yep, complete whacko." His bros weren't so convinced.

"Any idea whether or not she could hear things like the bikes before the incident?"

Charley shook her head. "No way to know, I'm afraid. Her family's been dead for a few years now, as you know, and there's no one who will talk that knew her when she was a kid. If I had to guess though, she's been an odd one all her life." Opening the bay door the mechanic listened carefully to the immediate surroundings. "Always odd, hearing the bikes clearly enough to pass on that a bolt needed to be re-tightened, and intelligent.. Very intelligent."

"How intelligent?" Modo's ears lay back a bit as his mind moved to the old thought patterns of intelligent equaled a ton of pain and an enemy for life.

"I'd say it's a good thing she's on our side, as she's fiercely loyal and protective of an area she claims as hers. Why do you think it's so safe around here, even at night?" She waved a hand casually to take in the streets surrounding them. "It's been this quiet since right before you boys came back. She moved in, and immediately began to clear out the rabble. I don't think she knows about the Plutarkians or the Catatonians, but if she does, she hasn't said a word about it." Charley paused as a new thought crossed her mind. "Come to think of it, there's been a lot less of them in the area as well since she moved in."

"Think there's a connection?" Throttle leaned forward, watching and listening to their friend.

"I'd bet a pallet of root beer on it. She would have had to fight Rump on that building and the others she owns around Chicago, and she's made it clear without words she'll hold them against all comers. So dealing with those two galactic rejects wouldn't be that hard, but how..."

Vinnie began to chuckle. "Cats hate water; maybe she threatened to give them a bath!"

The others groaned but Modo stayed quiet, pondering what Vinnie had said. "That might actually be it with the Catatonians. She's obviously twitchy with any standard issue weapon, so those are out of the equation. So she would have to find other ways to warn them off." His red eye looked to Throttle. "But what about the Plutarkians? The threat of water isn't so effective against them."

"She's not above the use of raw physical force, Modo. She might have done enough damage in her own way or put up a strong enough front to force them back." Charley shivered slightly. "I've seen her lose it once. It's not a good memory." She grabbed a bottle of root beer and popped the top before she began. "Chris stays just as cold and unreadable in a fight as she does normally, but her eyes miss nothing and you can almost see her brain working out how to handle the situation. The last guy she tried dating did _something_ when she had a flashback, I'm not quite sure what he did or said, but it yanked her back out of the flashback's grasp immediately. She proceeded to break every long bone in his body with a scary amount of precision. When I finally got her to stop she looked down at him and said 'you aren't worth getting dirty over' and walked away. It was eerie..."

"How did you get her to stop, babe?" Vinnie's comedic nature was sufficiently squashed by Charley's memory, worry and morbid curiosity making him lean forward on the edge of the chair he was sitting on as to not miss one word.

"My bike horn."

"Your... what?!" The albino nearly fell off the chair in shock. "Your bike horn?!"

Charley frowned as she glanced at Vinnie. "You heard me. I just had a feeling that I had to try it. Yelling at her wasn't working, and I didn't want to get within reach of her to restrain her. The sound of the horn seemed to have the exact same effect on her as you'd expect the distraught voice of a loved one would have on a sane person. She stopped dead, mid-swing."

The Bros looked at one another with a rare odd look shared between them that Charley couldn't decipher. "What? Come on guys, you _know_ I hate it when you guys keep secrets from me!"

Throttle lowered his head. "We have no proof, only theory based off what we know and what the Girls have told us, but there may be a possibility she's a kinetic."

"A what?" Charley tilted her head slightly. "You mean, like a psychic or something?"

"Something like that." Throttle rubbed his chin as he carefully chose his words. "The Girls aren't arguing that possibility, either. Sometimes there are those born with a little something extra in their genetic makeup, even on Mars, and it gives them the ability to alter their surroundings in small but potent ways. You say she's smart, her military duties were as a mechanic and a gunner and she excelled at both. She hears the bikes. If I hazarded a guess, if she is a kinetic, she's a technokinetic." He steepled his fingers under his chin and furrowed his brows. "How many know about her, as in really know about her?"

Charley pondered the question. "The locals know about her in the media sense, but they leave her be and bring her their cars when they need work, and she keeps to herself on most days. She'll sometimes have some government MIB trailing her. Why?"

"The fewer that know about our surly neighbor, the better. Especially if we're right."

* * * * * * * * * *

"So far so good, Kite. We got the last sample secured right under those Cats' noses to boot. Any change in their positions?"

The response was muffled as he pulled the spacesuit's helmet over his head, but he was fairly certain she'd said 'negative'. Caliber racked the helmet and began to release the locks on the suit itself. "Damn, do they plan on hanging around out there forever?"

He floated in the hangar bay as he wriggled out of the suit, leaving it to float free as he began to drag himself to his cabin in the zero-g of the ship. "It does appear to be that way, Cal. They haven't moved in any way since they took up their current position and I shut down the long-range active scanners. I don't believe they realize we are here, but it is better to be safe."

As the Catatonian small fighters arrived in their immediate space, both Kite and Caliber agreed that all but the most basic ship systems needed to be shut down. What was left running registered as little more than space background noise. They hoped. The only scanners in use now were optical, physically watching the locations where the enemy vessels sat and measuring any movement based on scale comparison.

Caliber moved into his cabin and made his way to the sonic cleaner, stripping off the fur-tight shorts that were the only allowable item of real clothing that could be worn in the spacesuit floating around the bay at that moment. "Any way you can give me a feed from the optics in here, Kite?"

"Of course, Cal." One wall in the cleaner shifted its image from their home on Mars to a multiple layered view from the optical scanners as he turned on the sonics, mrring softly at the feel of the sound waves powering away dirt and sweat while he floated upside down.

"Hrmmm... Is it me, or are they arranged like they're waiting for someone to come into the area? It doesn't even look like they're facing us at all. It looks like they're fac..." His gold eyes widened in shock. "They're facing Mars... They're waiting here, right here, for a ship coming in from Mars!"

His tail slapped the control for the sonics as he shot out of the cleaner, reaching for a clean jumpsuit as he braced himself to hit something before exiting the room, and breathed a thanks as the door irised open. He caught the frame and again pushed himself forward as he struggled into the suit. "They showed up what... five hours after we got into the area, which coincides with the original time frame we should have shown up if we had been on schedule and not early, right? They've made no move whatsoever to come into this area, and instead position themselves in a way to prevent a ship from Mars from coming in, especially one with only bare-bones weapons systems." He cursed as his tail refused to go into the suit's tail hole, and grumbled, giving up on it for now.

"Plus, they have taken up a position relative to where we came out of hyperspace, as per our original orders and coordinates." Caliber nodded as Kite confirmed his fears.

He growled softly and entered the bridge. "Which means either something went very wrong on Mars and we don't know about it yet, or we've had a rat in our midst that knew about the mission itself!"

"Either of those is something going wrong, Cal, and I fear we cannot figure out which option given is right, or if there is something else to consider while we sit here. My recommendation is to use the hyperdrive systems to extricate ourselves from here, but due to all systems being shut down, powering everything back up will take several moments and leave us sitting ducks when they pick up that we are here. They far outmatch my armaments." The ship's voice sounded strained and worried, which oddly settled Caliber's nerves.

He began strapping himself into the pilot's chair and gave his faceless partner a grin. "Then we'll bring up as much as we can carefully one by one based off what's needed for the hyperdrives first, and cut down the amount of time needed if and when they do see us before we can get out. Are you ready to play on the knife's edge of life, my dear Kite?"

"Always, Caliber. I wouldn't have been chosen otherwise. Beginning system restore, approximate time is thirty-five minutes. Are there any coordinates you'd like to give, Caliber?"

He yanked the pilot's helmet down onto his head. "As close to Mars as we can for tightbeam communications. After that, we'll have a better idea what's going on."

* * * * * * * * * *

Kite's engines pushed to their limits as she ran continuous calculations to evade the laser fire from the Catatonian fighters. "I had always wondered if I would like dancing. If this is any thing like it, then I do not think I like it very much." Her regular-duty engines whined to her as they sent her body into finely-controlled dips, dives and pirouettes as she struggled to stay far enough ahead of the Catatonians to not take any more damage. She was already hurting from the fire she had taken before she could get her engines back on-line, and she was not fond of the sensation at all.

"Keep going, my girl, you are doing magnificently! There isn't much time left before we can jump, we just need to hold strong!" Caliber released another volley of return fire as Kite lifted her nose. He let out a whoop as his shot tagged one of the fast fighters, the enemy craft erupting into a fiery blossom behind them. "See? Even I'm figuring this out!"

The belly of the ship, now bare to their remaining enemies, took the direct hit of a missile and the air inside Kite's body was filled with the sounds of her alarm klaxon. "Caliber, we cannot afford to wait any longer. If I take another hit like that, we will end up dead, or worse. As it is, that hit disabled my diagnostics. We need to jump now."

"Wait, what? What do you mean by jump now? The diagnostics aren't working?!" Caliber blinked. "But, aren't those systems buried safely inside you?"

"They are, and that last hit made them ineffective. Programming for hyperdrive, ready on your mark."

The low groan of the engines began to build and vibrate the ship. "What do you mean, on my mark?!"

"Hyperdrive engaged."

Caliber tried to sit up but was held back by the restraints of the chair as the ship slid into the tear between space. "I didn't mean NOW!"


	3. Chapter 3

Growling, covered in dirt, grease, ash and expended halon dust, Caliber jerked his hand back as the bare wire arced angrily at him. "Ow! I don't know what I'm doing in here, Kite! The cabling for this computer bank is either trying to kill me or give me a permanent full-body afro!"

The cameras that still functioned in the room where her partner's tail was still visible flickered on and off for a few seconds. "I am truly sorry, Cal, but we had no choice. The evidence of the strength of our need is all around inside of me. There are still systems that cannot be repaired, and they feel empty to me where they were. I hope that we have enough parts to handle the most necessary repairs."

Kite had been apologizing to him since they had stabilized in hyperspace a day earlier, and her apologies became more frantic with each new system going off-line or erupting into flames like the component behind the system Caliber now found himself wedged between after they had made their retreat.

"Stop apologizing, we're both alive because of you, that's all that really matters right now. Besides, I'm learning more about you, so long as I don't get electrocuted!" He cursed again as another wire sparked by his head, the mask he wore protecting him from more than the toxic chemicals. "That was close..." He scooted over to where he could access the replacements bin and picked up the datapad. "Can you send me the schematics for this system again? The one wiring harness is fried completely, and I can't tell what type it was before it got slagged."

The datapad's screen switched graphics from a previous repair to the current and Caliber began to dig through the bin to either find the right part or find one he could possibly cobble to fit until they could get the right parts. Between what she could feel, what she couldn't, and what he had found while inspecting and repairing, they had a fair assessment of the total systems damage, and that number was staggering. "Yeah, I'm still thinking we had a traitor in our midst where you were concerned, my girl. I can't say for certain if it was one or multiple, but they not only knew where we should be, but where to hit you to cripple you. If I ever find out who... I'll skin them myself."

"But, wouldn't that be..."

Caliber nodded. "Murder, yes. Seeing as this is wartime and has been for several years, almost a full generation, every Martian knows the risks. Every single Mouse on your team was genetically confirmed as a Mouse, so that would be a betrayal of the highest order. And every Martian knows what the penalty is now for any betrayal of this magnitude. Any act that either permits the loss of materials, resources or knowledge to the enemy through capture or destruction is now an executable offense. The higher ups in Command aren't handling this with kid gloves anymore. There's too much at stake." He pulled out a wiring harness and grinned. "Found it."

He wormed his way back into the compartment and began the task of breaking the old harness free. "Every time we've tried to use the regenerator, either the fish heads or the hairballs come through and destroy it all again. Hell, even the Far-Siders have been quiet despite the gaping wounds of our defenses. We're facing extinction if we don't do things right first time, including executions."

Kite sighed, the air in the cabin moving softly as her life supports mimicked the actual action. "I cannot say as I like it, but the rules that are outlined for the current situation of martial law are very specific. Someone betrayed us, the assumption is that we were wanted in a salvageable state, they deserve the punishment due." She chimed softly as the computer bank came back on-line as Caliber made the last connection. "Too bad they failed. I wonder what they will receive as punishment from their masters for the failure of capturing us."

* * * * * * * * * *

"It looks as though your attempts at catching that one little ship were beyond your capabilities, Lieutenant. What do you have to say for yet another failure to the Empire?"

The gray Catatonian shuddered at the words of his direct Commanding Officer. "Sir, they were far more maneuverable than we were led to believe, and far more prone to take the risks of using the hyperdrive to escape despite the damage they took than we thought. I swear Sir, that is the truth!"

The woman gently caressed the head of a chained and collared slave at her side as she took the measure of the disgraced pilot before her. "You do realize this will force the use of the backup plan, and that one is not the most reliable and far from subtle. That will alert every cursed rodent for light years that we are here and reveal our hand to the Plutarkians as well, thus nullifying any aspect of surprise we could have had in... negotiations." Icy green eyes narrowed as she spoke. "And that is, quite frankly, unforgivable."

Two hulking rats moved in and took hold of the pilot, dragging him out as his howls for mercy echoed through the hall beyond the doors. "He'll get mercy, won't he, my pet... The same as you. Collared for my personal collection of toys until he no longer amuses me." The vacant eyes of the tomcat gazed up at his smoky-white Mistress and his smile was as empty as his eyes. "Yes, he will please me, even if there are no lights on upstairs anymore."

The Commander's well-maintained claws tapped out a code on the armrest of her chaise and a screen appeared before her. "Commander Hairball, this is Commander Skyfire. I am informing you now that the Wild Card is coming into play due to unforeseen circumstances regarding the capture of the ship called 'Kite' and its pilot."

"Ah yes, I had heard of the failed attempt, Commander. The remaining pilots will be sufficiently disciplined, correct?" The thick accent of the small Catatonian made her have to strain to understand him.

Skyfire nodded with a leisurely grin. "The remaining Lieutenant and his wingman will be given satisfactory punishment for their failure. This does throw our plans back into a state of chaos though, I had so wished we didn't have to use the fish for recalling the Wild Card. But," she shrugged slightly, "I believe even they have heard of him, if nothing else."

Hairball laughed evilly. "I believe the current Plutarkian commander in the human city of Detroit is very familiar with him, as he was the one who trapped him in the dimension that many of their criminal elements are held. He found the Wild Card too hard to manage properly."

"Ahhh, but that is because he is not us. He will obey me, even if there is... collateral damage incurred."

"Come here, pet. It is time to please your Mistress again," she said as the screen went blank and disappeared into the air. Her feral grin didn't ease even as the sounds of her pet's screams filled the air and his blood flowed from the violence of her whips.

* * * * * * * * * *

As the last connector slid into place and the solder fused it to the fine web of wires that ran throughout the Mustang's body and mechanical systems, Chris nodded and stepped back. "How do you feel now, Amber?"

"I... feel... everything!" The engine rumbled to life as the car's voice, once only heard in the head of her owner, echoed throughout the garage. "Chris... This is wonderful! I can feel every last inch of me in ways I didn't ever think was possible!" The car's gearbox clunked slightly as the car tentatively rolled forward under her own volition. "I can actually move! You are positively amazing!"

Chris almost blushed at the compliment given her. "I am not, the ones who came up with the initial theories and mathematics were the amazing ones. I'm just the pit monkey."

**So when will it be our turn, huh?!**

Chris shot a glance to the Camaro sitting farther down the line of vehicles. "Again Snake, as soon as I can get the raw materials. I don't think you understand how much gold filament and titanium panels cost, as well as how hard it is to get in the sizes needed." She went down the line and stroked the hood of each car she could, holding a piece of the demolished car in her hand. "In time, all of you will be in the exact same shape as Amber, but it does take me time to do. I can say one thing, the crystals that are the basis of the core are completed for each of you, now it's simply getting the rest of the detail work done as well. New wiring harnesses, hooking up the connectors onto your body panels and into your guts, then getting the rest that is needed, get it all assembled, and install it for each of you."

The doorbell buzzed, alerting her to someone by the main garage bay door. "Must be Barker to get his car. Odd, he's early..." She looked at the clock that hung on one of the support columns as she waved Amber back to her post.

Chris hit the larger button that opened the roll-up door and winced as the sunlight struck her full in the eyes. "Yeah, Barker, can I help you?"

"I believe you thought I was my old man, eh, Christine?" The taller man leaned against the door frame with a lewd grin on his face. He took his time as he looked the mechanic over as she struggled to focus her eyes from the bright glare behind him. "He sent me to pick up the hunk of junk he calls a car."

"I don't hand over the cars I work on to the ones who are the reason they're here in the first place. Go home, and tell your dad to come pick it up." Chris made to turn back into the safety and darkness of her garage, but the man's hand shot out and grabbed her upper arm roughly, jerking her back and spinning her back around to face him.

He glared at her as she stumbled into the door frame. "I don't think you quite get it, Chrissy. I said I was taking the car. And I don't recall giving you permission to walk away..." He leaned closer to her ear as he spoke, and she clearly smelled the stench of sour alcohol on his breath.

"Let go of me, Dick..." Chris' eyes focused on him as she reached into the shadows to grab a favored item in any shop and her preferred method of home defense; a long, heavy breaker bar.

"Come on, you can't be serious. Can't you see I _fancy_ you?" His breath was making Chris' head swim as he leaned in, fully intending to kiss her.

"You heard the lady, let her go!" Amber's engine roared as her lights kicked on at their full illumination. "Let Chris go, or I will be more than happy to turn you into roadkill!" The tone in the car's voice matched the clearly deadly revving of the V8 under the hood.

"Who else you got in there, huh?" Dick shielded his eyes against the intense high beams as his whiskey-fuddled brain tried to figure out what was going on. "You got some kinda party going on in here and didn't bother to invite me in? I always knew you were some dumb-ass dyke, Chrissy. All you need is a good, long hard f- JESUS!"

He was so intent on the car that kept up the revs and had started to bounce on the front shocks in anticipation that he didn't see the breaker bar coming around and cracking into his side. "You goddamned bitch! I am gonna kill you!" Dick staggered back as the bar came up and began another fast and low swing.

A large grey hand grabbed the bar before it could continue its motion. "That's enough, Christine. I believe you said before, 'you aren't worth getting dirty over'. This piece of refuse isn't worth getting a hair out of place over." Modo towered over Chris, who immediately released the bar at the sound of his voice wearing a very confused expression on her face. "Although I don't mind getting a few hairs out of place for you, if what Darlin' relayed is right." He wrapped his prosthetic arm protectively around her shoulders and let his left arm drop to his side, tapping the breaker bar idly against his thigh.

Normally Modo wouldn't resort to violence, especially against a human who wasn't a direct threat to himself, his bros, or Charley, but Darlin' was in a near-panic as the voices of the cars' combined rage overflowed to her. In a way, he thought as he glared down at the man, he was glad the other two were on the outskirts of the city right at that moment. Vinnie would probably annoy her, if she ever got annoyed, and Throttle was too much of a command figure to give anyone the chance to work past her mask. He squeezed the rigid woman he held a bit tighter to him. She was a puzzle he wanted the time to figure out on his own. And the man who gasped, holding his side as he struggled to stand upright again, had threatened her.

"I've... heard about you guys... causing trouble all over... You haven't seen the last of me!" Dick scrambled backwards, tripping and falling to the road as his feet refused to negotiate the curb he couldn't see. "I'll kill you, bitch, don't forget that!" He yipped as the breaker bar flew and embedded itself in the pavement between his legs. "Damn it!"

Modo's eye flared bright red, his fur fluffing slightly. "I recommend you head home, sober up, then rinse your mouth out and forget everything about Christine here, or the next time you come near her, I won't miss..." He growled softly as the Mustang rolled out of the garage behind him, still bouncing the front end and letting the engine whine.

"Screw you not missing, I'll give him a one-way trip to hell, mouse-boy! No one threatens our Chris!" Amber's voice screamed out as the shocks gave a particularly good jump. "You mess with her, you are dealing with all of us!"

The damaged ear flicked back, not wanting to snap his head around in shock at the surprise of the vehicle itself and take his attention off the man now running down the street, cursing loudly. "That man... Did he hurt you, Christine?"

Modo released the paralyzed woman and moved around to her side while still making sure her attacker kept on moving. He was just as shocked by her face as he was by the vehicle that rolled up by her other side in a clearly defensive position. "Christine?"

"She's in shock, mouse-boy, get her back inside where it's safe, and no one can gawk at her... or me, for that matter..." The young-sounding voice held a note of an order as the Mustang shifted gears with another clunk and rolled backwards into the garage once more. "I am going to have to get used to that... Gears aren't supposed to clunk when shifting..."

With a wary glance to Chris, then down the street, Modo carefully picked her up and cradled her in his arms and brought her back inside her home, Darlin' following along behind quietly. "It'll be alright, Christine. We're here now. He won't get a chance to take another shot at you." He would have been pleased with the fact that she had an expression if it wasn't one that was a mix of absolute rage and panic that was frozen in place. "Darlin', let the bros know where we are, and that no one is to come over until I know she's come back around and isn't going to hurt anyone."

He looked around for a moment, then went to where the Mustang sat and bowed his head respectfully. "Ma'am, is there somewhere I can put your lady and keep watch?" He could now take a closer look at the car, and externally there was no difference between the still grumbling vehicle before him and a normal Mustang of the same year. He was dying of curiosity, but unlike a Catatonian, he knew the value of patience. He had to grin to himself. 'I know patience better than Vinnie... He'd be bugging both Christine and this little lady about how she can move...'

"There's stairs in the rear, the second floor's where Chris lives and guards us. Don't you dare do anything to hurt her, mouse-boy, or even your bike won't be able to stop me!" The car's headlights turned on and shifted slightly as if they were eyes looking up at him.

"She'll be safe with me, I swear it on my honor, formidable one. When I know she's comfortable though, you and I are going to have to have a talk so I know what's going on."

Amber growled softly before she relented. "Alright. You helped her out. I owe you that much."

"Good. My name's Modo, by the way, Ma'am. Not mouse-boy." He grinned to the car as he turned to find the stairs and take his now unconscious cargo to her bed.

"The name's Amber, Modo, and I know a good deal about the three of you boys." He blinked in shock. "Your bikes talk to each other. A lot. You may want to have a word with them about that."


	4. Chapter 4

Throttle and Vinnie were startled by the somewhat brusque message their bikes had relayed to them from Modo and looked at each other as they sat at the stoplight. "Who would have known?" The gold mouse tilted his head as Lady continued to provide information from Darlin' on the other side of the city. "If I'd known he was going to head over, I would have preferred he no- ahhh. So she was threatened?"

Vinnie glanced at him and his ears twitched inside his helmet. "What? Is everything alright?"

Throttle nodded as the light changed, the black cruiser moving forward with ease despite her rider's obvious distraction. "Yeah, seems some drunk started to threaten her, made at least one off-color comment, and somehow... Darlin' was alerted to it? Lady's not saying how, but Darlin' got Modo over there in time to keep her from really unloading on the guy. He and his bike are there now acting as guards, and he's being adamant on us not joining him."

"Awww, I wanted to go see hottie number two!" Vinnie grumbled before his bike bucked slightly under him. "What?"

**I know what set her off, lover-mine, don't ever let her hear you call her a hottie. She won't take it as well as Charley does.** The smooth and very feminine voice of Sweetheart echoed in his head.

"Why didn't you say something before now, then?" The albino almost whined to the red racer as the Mice and their bikes raced through the 'contested zones' of Chicago.

The bike snorted slightly. **Because this just happened? Darlin' even says she thawed a bit, although Modo wasn't the only one who was shocked by the look on her face. What happened _had_ to have scared her, or something. So keep the flirting to a nil around her until we know better what's going on with her?**

"Alright, alright... I promise to be good!" Vinnie sighed, Throttle chuckling at the albino's show of dramatics.

Throttle thought for a moment as they rode on. "We may need to extend our watch area to encompass her building as well for the time being. You got a problem with that idea, bro?"

"Not a prob, bro! But what about those MIBs Charley mentioned?"

Throttle patted Lady affectionately. "Do you honestly think these Girls can't pick them out of a crowd? They'll have a hard time doing surveillance if all their gear keeps breaking whenever we're in the area..."

Vinnie laughed and gave his commander the thumbs-up. "All's fair, right?"

"All's fair, Vincent." Throttle returned the impish grin. "Let's rock and ride!"

No sooner had they pulled in before Charley descended on them both. "You guys got a call from Carbine... Where's Modo?" Her eyes scanned the roads behind them before the bay door closed. "Didn't he go to meet you guys?"

"No, he's over at Chris', babe. Seems there was a problem over there earlier, so he went to go play the Great Grey Knight. He'll be fine!" Vinnie dismounted from his bike and pulled the helmet off to set it on a peg on the wall next to the door. "Is the Scary One still on the line?"

"Yes I am, Vinnie, and be glad I can't knock you on your tail for that one..."

Throttle groaned as Vinnie blushed. "He still hasn't learned tact yet, Carbine... I apologize." He stepped over to the communications rig and nodded to the worn-looking Mouse it displayed. "What do you have for us today?"

"I was hoping all three of you would be present, but I think I heard you say something about Modo being elsewhere?" Carbine tilted her head slightly as Throttle nodded. "Well, I trust you can pass this on to him if the bikes don't beat you to it. We had a spaceship, a prototype survey craft, go missing while it was on its maiden voyage. Everything seemed to be going well, but at the third point that it was supposed to arrive at and obtain mineral samples from, we lost contact. There have been reports of some kind of altercation in that area, but nothing substantiated as to whether it was them, or if it resulted in a loss of the craft."

Throttle rubbed his chin as Vinnie's ears perked slightly. "No offense, Carbine, but what does that have to do with us? We're kinda HERE, and that ship is kinda THERE..." Vinnie pointed first to the ground, then to the sky as he spoke. "It's not like we can do anything other than wish the pilot best of luck if they got away..."

Carbine rubbed her nose as if debating something, then sighed. "The ship was built around both a prototype computer system and a prototype hyperdrive engine. I can't go into much more than that for obvious reasons, but if the ship activated the hyperdrive engines, they may be trying to retreat to somewhere safe. And right now, you guys are at the safest place we know of."

Throttle settled back, leaning on the wall behind him. "So you want us to keep watch in case the ship does show up, right? Who's the flyboy?"

"At least one of you gets it... Yes, in case the ship does go to ground on Earth, keep an eye open until you hear differently. The Wingman," she said with a bit of emphasis to warn Throttle, "is a Mouse by the name of Caliber."

Vinnie perked up. "You mean that pretty boy that has all the ladies chasing him? He's the Wingman on this run?" Carbine's nod made Vinnie chuckle. "Guess I'm going to have to polish my charms to compete! I'm surprised Magnum let that one out of his sight!"

"Magnum chose him specifically for the first prototype. Caliber and the Wing seemed to hit it off during the building phase of the ship." Carbine's ear twitched as she looked to the side. She suddenly looked alarmed and furious as she hit the mute control on her end and had a very heated discussion with someone the bros couldn't see off to the side.

When the mute was released the fact that the woman was still enraged was clear even as she hung her head for a long moment before she spoke again. "The base where the prototype was built... Boys... DAMN IT!" A pen that had been sitting in front of her was scooped up and launched across the room where it sounded as if it had shattered on impact with the wall. "The base where the ship was built was just attacked... and blasted down to bare rock." She glared at them and even the console couldn't stop the heat in her eyes, or hide the agony. "Throttle, they don't think there are any survivors... and according to the initial information, it was _him_. There is no one we know of who could turn the ground to glass..."

Throttle suddenly shot forward as she spoke. "Gear..."

"Throttle, you and the others be careful. Someone let that madman out of the Plutarkians holding dimension! Promise me you'll be careful!" The normally proud and confident Mouse looked pleadingly to Throttle as he nodded.

"We will be, Commander. Go, take care of what needs to be taken care of... We'll keep you informed here if anything happens." He lowered his head as the screen flickered off.

Charley had brought them both bottles of root beer and had caught the name. "Does she really think he's back, Throttle? Who in their sane mind would let him loose again?!" Vinnie took the offered drink, but Throttle waved her hand away and turned towards the kitchen.

"We don't know, but that base was a city unto itself in a lot of ways. All those Mice... gone..." He opened a cabinet and reached inside. "I need something stronger than root beer right now, Charley-girl..." His hand pulled a bottle of Southern Comfort 100 proof down and he opened it deftly. "I need to either forget, or remember."

Both Charley and Vinnie stepped back, giving Throttle the space he needed as he poured the first shot of the potent alcohol. He never touched it, unless he had a very good reason to. That news was enough reason to make them all consider a round.

She was warm, comfortable, and in bed. Dressed. Chris didn't remember how she got there, but her mind began to churn through the last known memories before she lost awareness. She rubbed at her face as she sat up carefully and listened to the sounds of her home. 'Amber, who's the owner of the male voice I hear you talking to?'

**You're finally awake again! That's good! The voice is one of Charley's bikers, the big grey Mouse. His name's Modo, he's not a bad sort at all, and it seems our panic... got him over here when that piece of human shit threatened you earlier... Sorry about that...** Amber sounded genuinely sheepish as she answered Chris' question. **I haven't told him anything of import, but he is very curious to know about me... It's actually quite flattering! Should I tell him you're up?**

'Let me at least get cleaned and changed... I'm going to have to change out my sheets later. I'm covered in grease...' Her feet swung around to the side of the bed and she stood, still groggy, and meandered her way to the shower in the room. 'Has Barker come back for the Olds?'

**He called earlier, Modo took the call in your stead. He wasn't happy about you beating Dick like you did, he even threatened to press charges! But Modo got it straightened out. He's really a good guy, Chris. Barker's going to give you the pink slip on the Oldsmobile as an apology. I guess, maybe he did get the message, at least about letting that arrogant drunkard touch the car. If he doesn't have a car for him to drive which need repairs constantly afterward, you don't have to be put at risk anymore, I think that was his reasoning?**

'Possible... Barker's smart, his son's an idiot, to be nice...' Chris let the water run hot as she stripped out of the dirty jeans and tee-shirt. 'At least that's one more car that can be saved from abuse...'

**T-thank you... ver-very m-much, Chris...** The timid voice threaded into her mind and she smiled faintly.

'You're welcome. Welcome home, Stargazer.'

Still damp, Chris stood on the stairs partway up and silently watched the interaction between the Martian and the Mustang. The Mouse was very respectful to the car, and Amber was quite happy to chatter back, amused at his surprise yet to her. 'Any troubles, Amber?'

**Not one, he is really a good one to talk to. I have to say I'm impressed by him. He willingly accepts me as I am, although I guess the bikes do a good job of keeping a talking car a possibility in his eye, even if we aren't Martian like he and the bike are.**

Modo turned his head and smiled warmly to her. "Amber here said you were awake. It's good to see you're alright and up." He stood and walked over to her, careful to watch her as the car had instructed. "My name's Modo, Ma'am. A pleasure to meet you again, although not so pleasurable with the circumstances..."

She shook her head as she measured him with the same caution he did her. "No, it's alright. You came at the right time. I would have killed him. That was my intent. He threatened me, he made it clear he wanted to force himself on me. I would have ended his life right there if you hadn't come when you did." Her cold eyes narrowed at the memory.

Modo nodded, and had to hide a smile. She was showing a bit of emotion, even if she didn't realize it and it was over deadly intent. "If it's alright with you, we're going to hang around here for a couple of days, as a precaution." He pointed his thumb over his shoulder at the massive bike by the door that honked softly in response. "We'll be good and stay out of your hair."

Before Chris could respond, her stomach growled in complaint to its empty status, and she sighed. "Dinner first, then we discuss this baby-sitting." She turned and headed back upstairs, Modo taking the cue and following behind her. "And don't call me Ma'am. It brings back bad memories from my military days. I have a name, please use it. I know you already know it."

"Yes, Christine." The metal stairs that had been covered over with tightly-bolted wooden treads barely made any noise as the pair climbed to the second floor. Modo couldn't help but admire the woman as her body moved with little wasted motion yet could still catch the eye. She allowed pleasant images and thoughts to drift around in his mind instead of letting it sink into despair after the news Darlin' had given him. He happily distracted himself with the thoughts of what she would have been like now, if the young, bright-eyed and ready for adventure woman had never seen the world as she had been forced to.

"It's not Christine, either. Chris is fine. If you call me Christine, I am going to think I did something wrong. It's too formal for my tastes." She pushed aside the heavy fabric at the end of the second floor hallway and revealed the heart of her home.

The large Biker had to pause for a moment as he entered, amazed by the variety and explosions of life and color throughout. He had expected her home to be neat, her garage and her bedroom had made that point very clear, but the artistry and care that had gone into her living quarter took him completely by surprise. The open kitchen and living area were well-lit, the closed metal louvers on the windows had been carefully painted to mimic the sky at different times and weathers, and the tall bookcases were stacked neatly and full of so many subjects Modo could swear the answer to everything could be found in the volumes. All of the electronics and appliances were new and were all higher quality brands. And on every possible surface there were plants and fish tanks with colorful fish swimming about. She may be a cold personality, he thought, but she understood taking care of herself and appeared to be trying to take care of her spirit.

Chris stepped behind the island in the kitchen and poured herself a glass of wine. "Anything to drink while I get dinner going, Modo?" After taking a sip of the deep red merlot, she pulled her hair back and up, flicking a few stray drops of water from the tips.

"You wouldn't happen to have any root beer, would you?" Modo sighed when she shook her head. "Do you have any milk, then?"

Chris opened the door of the sizeable fridge and pulled out a glass bottle of milk. "Give it a good shake, that's real whole milk. You have to remix the cream back into the milk, but it's worth every last bit of effort. Untreated, straight from the cow milk."

He raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. As he began shaking the bottle his sensitive nose could detect a difference in the scent, nuttier and earthier than the processed milk Charley kept for cooking and coffee. "What are you planning for dinner? I can help if you want."

A couple of deep red steaks sealed in a vacuum bag plopped down onto the granite countertop as she rummaged around in the fridge. "Stir fry. It's fast, easy and good for you when made right. Plus, a lot of it can be made. I assume you do eat a fair amount." She gave him a glance over her shoulder and caught the embarassed blush. "Don't be ashamed about it. If you didn't eat a lot I would almost have to worry. You're a big guy, you're always active, and if your physiology is anything like a Terran house mouse, it would take active effort on your part to gain body fat."

Modo scratched the top of his head and grinned. "You got me there, Chris. I can out-eat the other two at any time. They learned that one a while back, the second time we were here. My mama always said that the sign of a healthy boy is a healthy appetite, and I have the healthiest appetite!"

"Good, because I also hate food waste." Peppers, garlic, snap peas, ginger and a sizeable onion were set down by the meat and she looked at them. "To waste the bounty of nature is disgraceful. It gets my nerves up when I see how much a normal restaurant throws out in a day. So don't you dare waste it..." She almost scowled, causing Modo to chuckle.

"No worry there, I promise you!" His thoughts tended to his bike with a question for her. 'Do you think the reason she's a hair bit more open right now is because she's in her home territory?'

**That there's an int'restin' question, brother... Accordin' t' a lot of psychologists here, tha' makes sense...** The link between Biker and bike dropped for a moment as Darlin' paused, probably to query one of the cars, he guessed. **Amber agrees. She ain't seen Chris actin' sociable in a long time an' misses th' company of others. Th' lot o' 'em down here understand what she's goin' through, but they worry 'bout her only wantin' t' deal with her 'silent children'...** The bike's southern drawl became a bit more pronounced as she considered the last bit. **Ah reckon she's been hearin' ev'rythin' for her entire life... Anythin' man-made she hears an' understands. Huh... A def'nite technomage.**

"Modo, I think you are turning that milk into butter..."

The woman's deadpan voice cut into Modo's thoughts and conversation and he paused to look at the bottle and the not-so-liquid milk inside. "Oh man, I'm sorry! I was thinking and talking with Darlin', and I..." He set the bottle down and sighed, his ears and antennae drooping.

"Don't worry about it. Here, shake up this bottle and I'll get the butter-like milk into a container you can shake to your heart's content." Chris opened the fridge once more and pulled out another bottle and handed it to him. "I needed more butter anyway. I was planning on doing some baking tomorrow and the recipes call for quite a lot."

His antennae perked back up at the mention of baking. "You bake as well? You are a definite enigma Chris, and a very intriguing one at that!" He shook the bottle vigorously and set it down, opening it and inhaling the scent with a grin.

He couldn't tell if his comment had amused her or annoyed her as she gave him one of her inscrutible looks, but as Chris picked up a large, heavy kitchen knife he held up his hands in mock surrender, trying not to laugh. "I yield, I yield! You win!" He took the knife as she flipped it and handed it off to him and picked up the onion. "So, minced, somewhat chunky, or bite-sized?"

Chris pondered the onion as she tried to get her mind better focused on the now and not the past his teasing had brought back to mind. "Half-moon slivers about a quarter of an inch thick. It's a good size for stir fry, the same for the rest." She squatted down as she opened a cupboard and pulled two cutting surfaces that matched the countertops, handing one off to him. "Think you can handle that?"

"Not a problem! Just leave it to me!" He raised his knife as she pulled the cleaver from the block and nearly dropped it as she looked up at him with her eyes back into the cold wary mode she had worn before.

"Should I be expecting guests?"

"Wha...?" He blinked in utter confusion at the same time the upstairs door speaker buzzed. 'Darlin'?!'

**She's up, brother, an' I don' think she'll be a threat t' you, so... I let th' others know the situation's clear? If'n I hear his crazy Lady right, Throttle's gone an' gotten himself rather drunk...** Modo groaned and set the knife down to rub the ridge of his nose. "Apparently so, Chris..."

Chris patted his arm as she stepped towards the door control, startling the grey and making him blush slightly. "The Girls talk. Remember that. And my children hear them." She pressed the control for the outside speaker and grumbled low. "What do you want..."

"Ummm, we heard my bro Modo was here? Our other bro's not very good company right now back at the Last Chance, soooo... Can we hang out with you guys?"

Chris arched an eyebrow to Modo who mimed lifting a bottle to his lips, causing Chris to nod. It seemed the cars had the sense to not mention that one in passing. He would have to thank them later, and explain the why to the petite woman.

"Do you plan on eating me out of house and home as well?"

"You have dogs with all the fixings, like ketchup and mustard and delicious relish and onion and you can't forget the cheese!" Vinnie sounded hopeful even as Modo almost lost control of his amusement as he saw the look of revulsion cross Chris' face.

"Real food is served here, not the lips and asses from a multitude of animals ground up and liquified and then shoved into a length of their own intestines that aren't ground up and liquified and called a human food item..."

Silence answered her for a moment before the sound of Charley came over the speaker with Vinnie grumbling about his ear aching in the background. "Real food sounds good, Chris. Do you need me to run to the store for anything?"

Chris looked back over at Modo who had paused to get a taste of the milk and looked perplexed by the unusual taste. "Root beer."


	5. Chapter 5

They slid back into normal space and their comm lines were immediately bombarded by signals coming in from the red planet below them. The sheer volume of the communications made both Wing and Wingman edgy as a sorting protocol began to sift through based on command rank and priority. "There is a priority coming in from Commander Carbine, DNA lock confirmed for security, Cal. Nothing from home, though, which is odd... Putting the Commander through now."

Caliber ran his fingers through his hair and prayed he wasn't about to get his tail chewed off as Carbine's image popped up on the screen. "Hello, Commander, Wingman Caliber reporting back..." He fell silent as the grey Mouse held up her hand to stop him.

"No time, Caliber. Kite, accept the incoming data transmission and go. Now. Don't ask questions, the file along with the override should answer as much as can be right now. You are NOT safe here on Mars. Until the future brings you back Wingman and Wing, fly free!" The screen went blank, leaving Caliber stunned and rooted to the spot.

The hyperdrive engines that had just shut down vibrated the ship as they powered back up. "Strap in, Caliber. The Commander was not kidding." Kite had immediately processed the incoming data and found herself wishing they hadn't returned to their home. She could experience emotion as well as physical pain to a point, and the losses their world had suffered weighed heavily on her. Kite found herself wanting to scream any way she could as the anger and rage and sorrow hit her.

Caliber shook his head briefly before he nodded. "Where to, my girl, and what is going on down there?!"

"We are to go to Earth and either connect up with the Chicago team or the Detroit team as they both have access to resources that can handle my repairs. I will tell you the rest on the way. Command System Override commencing in ten seconds." She couldn't hide the bitterness in her voice as she began the countdown to launch.

His hand squeezed the arm of the chair as he settled into its embrace in an attempt to reassure his partner. Magnum had warned him that a DNA-locked transmission could be used by Command to assure secrecy and immediate compliance if something went horribly wrong, and by the way Kite sounded as well as the method of the order, he feared for their friends. "Cross your circuit boards then, because we are going to need every last stroke of luck to get there. And pray to the Gods of War that we can make the ones responsible for this suffer..."

Neither ship nor pilot turned to gaze back one more time as she pushed forward and disappeared above the skies of Mars. Both couldn't bear to see their world before the space between swallowed them completely, even though they both understood they may never be able to return.

It had taken nearly a month to convince Chris of the Bros and their intentions on earth each time they had returned, but by the time they had her relatively convinced of the situation they too came to understand her position within the community. She had learned the general lay of the land and the infrastructure around both her warehouse and the larger warehouse facility she held along the lakefront on the edge of the city and had begun working with various methods to make both facilities more self-sufficient. The variety of things she had stored within the tomes in her book collection made sense to Modo as she guardedly gave them more information. He took it as a bit of pride that the details she gave were to him alone.

"So long as you don't bring trouble to the lakeside property, you boys can use it for managing your refugees and getting them straightened out and relocated. It isn't an issue." The two of them sat beside the road, car and bike parked close as they leaned against Amber's body and looked skyward while the arm of the Milky Way crossed the heavens. "It can even be used as a training ground for them to learn new survival skills here on Earth. I'd bet the vast majority don't know the basics for farming, let alone farming terran-style."

The grey nodded and sighed. "We've been carefully relocating the at-risk members of our population to Earth since our first crash-landing here, such as civilians with families and oldsters that were willing to leave. Reports state that it hasn't been easy for them. The average human doesn't seem to want to be receptive which is why we're still seen as... what do they call them... cosplayers?"

Chris hopped up onto the tailgate to sit on Amber's trunk. "Welcome to the Human Race. You can shove the truth so far up their asses they shouldn't be able to deny it, yet somehow they still do. I haven't got an answer to you on that one. Humans make no sense to me at all most days."

Modo leaned back a bit and nodded. "Yeah, it's kind of sad when you think about it that way. To think that you aren't alone in the universe, to have that proof right next to you in a galactic sense, and simply deny it so easily."

"How long have you guys known about extra-Martian life?" Chris leaned forward and propped her chin on her fists as she watched him.

"Hmm, I'd say at least the last two hundred years, Martian reckoning, so about three hundred seventy-eight years Earth time. An accidental meeting between Mars and Plutark. Look what that one incident brought us to." He looked at the woman next to him and gave her a wink. "One good thing about all this is being right here, right now."

Shooting him a glare, Chris sniffed. "And what is that supposed to mean?" At the urging of all the vehicles she had relented to trust the big Mouse enough to be more open, pleasing both her children and the Martian. She was still wary despite her severe social hangups, but with gentle coaxing, she was acting around Modo more like she did around things that only she had heard until now.

Modo chuckled. "Nothing, just that I'm here enjoying a cool summer night with a very unique woman and her equally unique partner in crime." He still wasn't sure what to make of her, but as she let more of her guards down around him, he felt more and more priviledged to know her, and more protective despite her obvious strength of will and body.

"At least you aren't that mad albino. Does he try to get into every female's shorts?"

Modo blinked before he bent over in laughter. "You don't ever pull a punch, do you, Chris? He's not as bad as you think, Charley keeps him in line in a lot of ways. I think she'd choke him with his own bandanna if he did anything more than flirt with another woman!"

Chris glanced at him and hid a smirk behind her hands. "That's good to hear, or he'd be going back one of these days with damaged goods..."

She may have hid the smirk, but it was clearly heard by Modo in her voice. He turned and looked at her with amazement. "You are actually smiling, aren't you? Come on, let me see?"

"Oh no, you're wrong, I'm not smiling..."

"She's lying, big guy! She was grinning like a Cheshire Cat!" The car happily joined in on the teasing as Chris slapped the trunk warningly.

"Don't you even think about turning traitor, Amber!" But her eyes gave her away as they glittered in the starlight, alive for the first time in years.

Modo grinned and turned, bracketing her between his arms and leaning toward her. "Is she, by any chance, ticklish Amber?"

The car's laughter and the look of horror on Chris' face gave him all the answer he needed. "Now to get you to laugh, bright star!" He scooped her up as Chris tried desperately to skitter away from him screeching, and held her to him. "Where's the best spot, I wonder. Your sides, maybe?"

"Oh gods no! Not my sides!" She howled as his fingers, already clutching her to him, began to wriggle, sending her into peals of giggles between her cries for mercy and her vain struggles to free herself. "M-Modo! Gods stop! Please! Can't... can't breathe! Laughing! Gyaaa!"

Modo sat down on the ground as he continued, Chris twisting against him and burying her face against his neck to try and hide the choking laughter pushing free from her throat. "Now, should I let you go, or continue to... your feet..."

"No! Don't you..."

Suddenly both Mouse and human looked skyward in stunned silence as the sky ripped apart and a scream they could both hear clearly tore through the night.

"Shit... Modo, we have to get to..."

Modo nodded as he released her, yelling to Darlin'. "Tell the bros to meet us at the lake! That's Kite! And tell them to bring Charley's truck with as many tools as that beast can hold! We'll meet them there!"

Amber's engine roared to life as the door swung open. "Come on, Chris, we gotta go! Chris?"

Modo turned and saw the so-recently laughing and smiling woman frozen in place. "Amber?"

"She's... She's in so much pain... I can feel it..." Chris' body shook faintly, and Modo found himself forced to pick her up and gently put her in the Mustang. "So much pain... I'll... I'm going to be ill... need to guide her in..." She made no attempt to fight the Mouse as her mind began to become overwhelmed in the moment.

Modo looked worriedly to his bike, the car, then the woman. "We'll save her, Chris... You just get her to listen to you, get her to follow you. Just don't get lost yourself, got it?" He dared and leaned close, giving her cheek a soft kiss before he stroked her hair. "Don't you dare get lost."

His hand firmly closed the car door as the air exploded high in the sky, announcing the ship's abrupt and barely controlled arrival. "Lead the way Amber. We'll keep watch from the rear! Go!" His legs quickly brought him to Darlin's side as the car peeled gravel from the road before launching herself and her driver down the road. "We've got no time, and a long way to go. I hope the back roads are clear!"

Caliber struggled as the ship lurched violently out of hyperspace. More systems had become inoperable as Kite had begun the calculations to bring them out near Earth and the pain had become more than she could handle. Her howl as the space between was breeched briefly had nearly made him deaf and he was forced to continue the calculations where she had left off. A part of his mind had been grateful there wasn't much left of the math to handle and he prayed to the Gods of War that he didn't fail them both and Mars as he cleared the last series and hoped fervently that he hadn't messed up any of the calculations. He had enough to concern himself with now that Kite had gone unresponsive, namely landing as the space between spat them out like so much bad food.

"Gotta... hold on... a little longer... Damn it, this isn't easy!" He fought the manual controls as they hit the atmosphere like a rock and began descending to the surface. "Kite! Kite, can you hear me?! I need your help here! I can't hold on! I don't know where to go!"

"You... Damaged, broken... hurting so much... listen to my voice, hear me... Follow me, follow my voice, child..."

The strange voice had Caliber scrambling as his shock made the craft yaw to the right dangerously. "Wha... Who the hell?!"

"Listen to me, child of the sky... I hear you... I feel you... Come, follow me... Awake, and listen to me... I will ease the pain, follow me..." The strange voice echoed throughout the ship, every speaker within Kite giving voice to the woman's low, gravelly voice. "You are safe, awaken... Hear me!"

With a jerk, the controls wrenched free from Caliber's hands as the pitiful voice of Kite answered the unknown summons. "I hurt... They're all gone, I'm lost and hurt, I don't understand this!"

"Come and I will ease your pain. Follow me..."

"Kite?! Who is that?!" Caliber tried to reach for the controls again as their descent increased suddenly at a steep angle. "Kite?! Kite!"

A broken communication suddenly blasted in his ear, making him whimper in pain. "Don't fight it Wingman, you're in good -... You're being guid-... - Bikers will take care of it!"

"What in HELL is going on?!" Caliber growled into the comm link as he fought down fear and panic as the ship banked hard to begin following a road below them at a terrifyingly low altitude.

The sound of the new voice was low and growly as well, but very male as it responded. "We don't know, other than your ship-... We'll figure it out when we get you safe, Caliber." The communications became more stable as Kite brought them lower to the ground. As the Mouse gaped, he realized they were following the same path as two vehicles, and one of them bore a very annoyingly familiar look of a Biker's bike.

"Someone had better give me an answer when we come to ground!"

"You had better keep it down, or I'll lose focus..." The first voice growled through the speakers. "I personally don't feel like getting blamed for another explosion..."

The road opened up as they flew along, catching up to the Biker and the other vehicle then passing them over, and Caliber saw the large field and building before them. "What, wait whoa! What in hell?! We're gonna crash!"

"Modo, get the bay doors open. We're going to need to hide this ship immediately. The police are already mobilizing because of the reports of a meteor in the skies. Darlin' knows the bay code."

"Roger that, Chris, I'm on my way." The Biker shot forward as Kite began to slow, barely skimming the tops of trees as they went. "Caliber, I swear we'll explain what's going on, you just need to trust us. Biker's honor!"

"Like that means a lot to me!" Caliber nearly shouted as his voice rose to new pitches as his fear began to spiral out of control. He watched the bike skid to a stop inches from the quickly approaching building's main door and the monster door began to slide open far more slowly than he wanted it to while Kite's engines began switching from forward motion to the VTOL systems in the curved, stubby wings. "Shit!"

He clung to the armrests as Kite slipped into the building with mere inches to spare and wobbling badly, dropping her landing skids before shutting down all engines to drop to the ground with a violent thud. The sudden full stop threw him against the harnesses that held him tight, and the cursing he wanted to scream over the comm at the Biker was cut short as he struggled for air instead.

"Good work Chris, now get in here!" The Biker, Modo if he heard the name right, sounded slightly panicked himself, forgetting the comm was completely open or simply not caring at that point. "You've almost made it!"

He couldn't see what was going on outside, but because the communications were open still he clearly heard the sound of the car as it sped towards the building and slammed on its brakes, then the door rolling shut behind him. "Chris! Are you alright? You had better not have gotten hurt!"

"Gods damn it! Lemme go!" Caliber struggled against the restraints for a moment before they yielded and released him. He bolted for the egress hatch on the side and barely waited for the door to open before he leaped out. His body, not accustomed to terran gravity standards, landed heavily and he idly thought he may have sprained an ankle, but his adrenaline prevented Caliber from feeling the pain as he rushed not towards the car and the woman who held the door open, pale as a sheet and sitting in the driver's seat, but the Biker who was kneeling beside her.

"You gods be damned Biker, I want answers now!" Caliber's sudden aggression caught the Biker by surprise and allowed the smaller Mouse to land the first hit. He had the supreme satisfaction of seeing the grey slam into the side of the car and cocked his fist back as he readied to hit again. He had forgotten about the ever-present bike and partner to the Biker.

With a growl the monster cruiser rushed between the two as the Biker stumbled back to his feet, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and his remaining eye glowing evilly red. Both Mice glared at each other over the body of the bike which was letting her engine rev in anger. "I want some damned answers, Biker!"

"You aren't the only one, Wingman... Now sit on it and stay quiet!" Modo lunged over Darlin' and tackled Caliber, catching him by surprise but not unprepared, and Modo found himself suddenly pinned by the russet as he continued the momentum of the tackle and flipped it back around. He hit the cement floor with a solid thud and continued to wrestle the Wingman, the current situation forgotten as Caliber fought back, keeping the grey on the defensive. Modo grabbed the front of the Wingman's jumpsuit as he grasped the wrist of the hand that had found its way to his neck. Caliber didn't have the strength to do him much damage, but he had to admit it was a distraction.

"Men... never change..." The sound of Chris' weak voice brought Modo back to his senses enough to put him off-guard, giving the other Mouse the opening he had been looking for. His fist came up with the full intention of knocking the grey out until he sensed another person behind him. "Let my friend up, or I find out exactly how hard Mouse bones are..."

"Chris, no! Get back!"

He didn't think, he reversed the direction he would have taken and swung backwards. Caliber started to grin as his fist caught something that was soft and fleshy until he saw the look on the grey Biker go from shock to total rage. "You... hit Christine... You son of a..."

"STOP! Both of you stop it right now!" Kite screamed at full volume, making everyone whimper in pain as the empty space echoed the cry all around them. "I have lost the rest of my family, I will not lose my Wingman too! Look at yourselves, grown Mice fighting each other, and for what? Nothing! Now stop it!"

"I am going to... put a muzzle on your outside voice... child of th-the sky..." Caliber glared over his shoulder at the speaker, then groaned as he saw the woman struggling to get back up, obviously hurt and sick. "I'm already dealing... with a rag-raging headache from guiding you... Now I feel like m-my brains... are going to ooze out my ears... after my guts rebel... against everything from the past year..."

Caliber had never hit a woman and the weight of his guilt as he realized the woman he had struck was as small as a young Martian girl and in obvious distress made his guilt grow heavier. "Gods, I am sorry, I didn't know..." He gasped as a very large hand grabbed him by the collar of his jumpsuit and dragged his head down to be nose-to-nose with the still furious Modo. "I'm REALLY sorry!"

"If that lady's got anything broken because of you, I will break you. Got it? Because of her, you got here safely. She's a damned kinetic, you arrogant ass! Didn't the sound of her voice clue you in?! She's the one who landed you! She put her life on the line to bring you down!" His red eye was still glowing as he snarled, shaking the now-horrified Caliber hard on the last three words to drive home the emphasis. Neither Mouse noticed the arrival of the last two Martians or Charley as they slipped in the side door.

"Enough, Modo. Go help Vincent get the equipment unloaded from the truck. I'll handle the Wingman from here." Throttle's voice brooked no argument from either Biker or Wingman as Caliber found himself shoved off the grey roughly.

He had to admit, the grey was a terrifying image as he stood, towering over him as he sat stunned, not quite sure what was going on anymore. "I'll help Vinnie after I've checked on Chris." For once Modo stood and stared down Throttle, daring him to stop him. He stalked over to where the human leaned heavily against the car and knelt next to her, giving her the chance to rest against him if she chose. Caliber watched as they had a quiet conversation for a moment, and the look of relief that passed across the grey's face gave him some small comfort.

"Kite, I'm sorry... so sorry... I'm a useless Wingman, aren't I..." He smiled up sadly at his partner who had once again gone silent as the world around him faded to grey, then black. "Sorry..."


	6. Chapter 6

"Charley, there's a guard uniform by the office door. Get into it and get out to the guard shack by the road immediately. The cops are going to be heading this way shortly, and I need someone there to deflect them. The Bros sure as hell can't do it..." Chris was still clutching her stomach where she had been struck as she fought down nausea to try and lock down the building before they had any issues with the locals. There was no way they missed the sudden burst of fire in the sky. She only hoped that her remaneuvering the ship as it had gone below radar level would be enough to throw them off the scent. "Modo, I swear I'll be fine. My ribs aren't broken, just bruised real good. It isn't the first time I've been backhanded by a moose..." She was still a very interesting shade of green, but her general grumpiness had been discarded in the face of the new situation, her orders coming out fast and concise. "Vinnie, is everything, including the bikes in? Nothing left outside?"

"All's clear, Chris. There isn't even the scuff of a tire visible at all anywhere." He nodded as he answered her, wiping away some of the sweat that had developed on his muzzle. "We're secure and ready. The place looks like no one's been here at all recently."

"That's good. The cops that usually patrol this area are used to hit-or-miss guards in the shack, so one being there now won't alarm them. Charley, you know your story?" Chris looked at the taller woman who nodded.

"Yep. Tell them it had been a quiet night until I heard the explosion higher up and watched the streak of fire in the sky going south-east to north-west, away from here. Speculate that it may have crashed in the lake if it survived the atmosphere?" Charley mimicked the attitude of a guard who never saw anything out of the ordinary on post until that night, earning her a rare smile from Chris.

"Perfect. I leave the how to you, just remember the story you used. Just in case." She turned and looked at Throttle, who had been forced to carry the collapsed Wingman back into one of the spare offices. "Everything good at your end?"

The golden Mouse nodded. "Seems his body took too much stress and just gave out. He should be fine in a few hours, then we can figure out what his story is. The ship isn't responding to anyone, either, which isn't a good thing."

Chris looked up at the craft. "She's in a lot of pain. The fact that they made it to Earth is a miracle in itself. I don't need to be crawling around inside of her to know that. I can feel it, like someone took a ton of small, hot pokers and started to jab at my innards with them." Her eyes were hazy from the pain throughout as she spoke. "It's a very sickening feeling... I can't begin to describe it any other way... I have to begin trying to fix her, or she's going to make me very queasy..."

She didn't put up more than a token growl as Modo wrapped his arms around her and forced her to sit on his knee. "Later, Chris. First we make certain the place will be secure from any prying eyes. Then we make sure you're ok. THEN you can work on Kite."

"You'd better listen to Modo, Chris. He's the smart one!" The comment from Amber made Vinnie glare at the car and Throttle to chuckle. "Well, he is in comparison to you, you crazy white fluffball!"

"Listen here, Amber, I'll have you know I am the epitome of the van Wham family line, the baddest mamma-jamma this side of-"

"The asteroid belt, we ALL know that one, fluffball!" Throttle and Charley laughed as the car finished Vinnie's statement, making the albino flush and grumble about being unappreciated. "You'd better hurry Charley, the cop cars aren't that far out..."

"Roger that, Amber!" Charley headed for the side door and her feet could be heard as she ran to the end of the drive. Her laughter died out long after the sounds of her feet on the pavement were heard.

Vinnie sighed dramatically. "I am not going to hear the end of this, am I..."

"From Amber, probably not. Charley may hold that over your head for a while..." Chris rested her head against Modo's shoulder as she yielded to his warmth and offered comfort in resignation. She murmured faintly, barely to where Modo could hear her, "why am I so soothed by you, Modo... Why do I trust you..."

He rested his head on top of hers and whispered back, "because you are you, and you know inside your heart I would sooner die than make you cry." He chuckled as he heard her breathing drop into the pattern of sleep. "And you didn't hear a single word I said, did you, bright star... Oh well... I think that's best for now."

Throttle looked over at Modo as the grey settled his bulk to the ground and leaned against Amber, Darlin' purring up alongside her Biker, and smiled. "Keep her calm and quiet, Modo. I think if anyone here's earned rest, it's her. I'll handle the rest."

Modo nodded and, after a bit of wriggling out of his chest harness, held Chris close, letting his own exhaustion from the sudden pressures of the past two hours catch up to him and bring him into an unusually quiet, dreamless sleep.

Chris awoke to the sounds of Throttle dressing down someone aggressively but in an attempt to be somewhat quiet, Vinnie and Charley chattering back and forth as the sounds of toolboxes being moved around echoed around the empty room faintly, and the steady heartbeat and breathing of a furry chest that supported her head. "Good morning, Chris... How do you feel today?"

"Like a fleet of mack trucks decided to have swing dance lessons in my head... Gods, what time is it?" She grumbled softly and slapped at Modo's chest as he chuckled at her analogy. "You asked."

"Yes, I did... It's about noon, you've been asleep for nearly ten hours." She made no move to escape his arms, and Modo was loathe to let her go. If she was comfortable and had no issues with his embrace, he would enjoy every moment offered. "Caliber just got up a little while ago himself, if you were wondering who Throttle's chewing out. The other two have made two more runs back to your shop as well as the Last Chance, and brought as many tools as they could in each run. Between you two ladies, Kite should be eased of her pain."

"How good is Charley with computer systems and hydraulics?" Chris lifted her head to get a glance at the furry throat supporting the head that still rested on top of hers.

Modo pondered the question. "That I don't know, probably about as well-versed as you, maybe less? She's done a lot of customization to the Girls in the past, and she built that one base when the previous Last Chance was blown up by the Catatonians. If nothing else, I'm pretty confident she can follow a schematic with little difficulty." His voice rumbled and vibrated her head, making her wince.

"Please tell me someone brought pain-killers, because I need some right about now. Tylenol or Jack Black Label would work very well." She unconsciously snuggled closer to Modo in response to her pain, making the grey smile and oblige her with a gentle hug.

"No Jack I'm afraid, but the Tylenol will flow freely for you. Darlin' took the liberty of scanning your body after I woke up to make certain Caliber didn't actually break anything. You were right, he just gave you one hell of a bruise." He caressed her hair as she sighed at the thought of no alcohol. "Kite isn't responding to anyone though, so we don't know how bad she is other than doing diagnostics, and her on-boards are fried. No one's wanted to go up into her until you woke up and could work."

Chris nudged Modo's head off hers and looked up again at the ship, her eyes unfocusing as she tried to reach the ship's consciousness. "She's retreated pretty far within herself. She has a hell of a good round of depression and probably won't respond until I've got her in better shape..." Chris rested her head back against the great furry chest and sighed again. "I kind of understand her feeling though. The loss of everything you care for... It's not something you just roll with. It takes a while... Especially if you blame yourself."

Modo nodded and continued to hold her. "I never told you about what got me fully committed to the war for freedom on Mars, did I? Well, it's pretty short, I'm afraid, it's nothing spectacular like Vinnie or Throttle's tales." He lifted his head for a moment as his breath hitched in his chest. "You see, there was a Mouse I loved, a beauty, everything that was perfect in a Martian. We were very much in love, and on the day we were married, the ceremony was disrupted by Plutarkian troops. A lot of the guests at the ceremony were freedom fighters, so it was a pretty obvious strike against us. Catch as many Mice in the trap as they could."

Chris looked up at the Mouse, shocked at his forwardness and his admittance. "Wh-what happened?" Her voice was soft as she began to understand the stoic Martian.

"It was as everyone was gathering to congratulate us... The Plutarkian fighters swarmed from the mountains around us. Even with their superior numbers, we fought back hard and won... but... many Mice died. Including her. My wife, the one I loved beyond life." A warm tear fell from his muzzle and landed on her cheek. "From that moment on, I swore to engage any enemy to Mars without mercy. They showed none to us."

Chris' calloused finger reached up and gently brushed away the tears that had begun to fall, and Modo smiled quietly to her. "I will never forget her or forgive them. I can't. I won't tolerate anyone putting anyone else through that hell, either. That's how I know Kite's pain, just like the others do. She isn't alone, and we think we know who's the one responsible. We've learned patience when it comes to dealing with that kind of heart-pain." His big hand began to stroke her hair gently again. "And if you ever need to, lean on me, Chris. Whenever you're ready. I'll always be here."

"In time... maybe... when I can deal with it all over again." She turned as Charley came over to them with a smile.

"I thought I heard your voice, Chris. How are you feeling?" Charley crouched down and tilted her head to the side. "If the look around your eyes is any indication, you need some of these." She held out a bottle with pain-killers and opened the lid. "I'd say four to start, with a caffeine chaser. We'll see how you are after an hour, alright?"

"Sounds about right." Chris held out her hand and the four pills were deftly tapped out into her palm. With a grimace, Chris popped the pills into her mouth and swallowed them. "Caffeine?" She held her hand out again as Charley looked at her wide-eyed. "What?"

"You just swallowed four pills without water..."

"Yeah, so? You tend to get used to it after a while." Chris shrugged as Charley chuckled and stood back up.

"One second, I'll get you some coffee. That should work to get it into your blood quickly." She nodded as the sound of crutches accompanied by boots approached the pair on the floor. "Don't be loud right now around her, or she may share the headache with you."

Modo's soft growl brought Chris' attention to the pair that now stood before them, and her grey eyes took a moment to focus beyond her nose, the two Mice who stood quietly waiting for her to acknowledge them still blurry and indescernable. "Throttle, and I assume Caliber?"

The russet Mouse lowered his gaze as he flushed in embarassment, tottering dangerously on the crutches. "Yes, ma'am. Wingman Caliber, at your service and in your debt. I'm sorry for causing you any pain and anguish from what I have done. I can make no excuses for my actions or my rudeness. To make up for it I place myself and my Wing into your hands and into your service. Please accept us as your subordinates. Please." He tried to bow and had to be held up by the fast grab from behind by Throttle as he overbalanced, nearly ending up in Modo and Chris' laps.

Chris gave the russet an inscrutable look for a long moment before she answered. "If I refuse?"

"I will hound you incessantly until you accept. Please, I have disgraced myself, my Wing, the Bikers and my world..." Caliber's voice was fully sincere as he still insisted on trying to bow, making Throttle hold him up.

"Is he likely to do that, Throttle? I really don't feel like having him pester me when I'm in the shower or just waking up..." Chris' voice had returned to the flat tone she used when she was wary and guarding her thoughts closely.

Throttle shrugged, making the Wingman wince as he was forced to drop his left foot to the ground to try and remain stable, sending a jet of pain through his body. "Your guess is as good as mine. Wings and Wingmen weren't all that common on Mars the last we knew. He's probably genuine, though. He would stalk you until you agreed."

"I would NOT stalk her! I would just... You're right, that would be stalking..." At first insulted, Caliber had to stop and think about what he had said, and he hung his head even lower. "I am sorry, Christine, I am just so very sorry. I should have been thanking you, checking on your well-being after you put yourself at such a risk. Instead I went after your guardian and hit you." He whimpered softly. "I just don't know what to do to prove myself to you and to the Bikers..."

Chris tapped Modo's arm and stood up very carefully, the world swimming as her body decided to remind her at the same time as her head throbbed roughly there were many things to take care of. "If I say yes, are you going to shut up and stop aplogizing? It's distracting and very annoying." She got nose-to nose with him, her eyes finally focusing enough to see him clearly. Her grey eyes widened a bit as she got that better look. She was expecting the startlingly handsome Mice now, but this Caliber's eyes could swallow her without effort.

She shook her head violently and yelped as the world greyed out for an instant, her knees buckling. Caliber dropped the crutches as he reached out to grab her before she fell, and whimpered as he caught her in realization they were both going to hit the ground.

"You are going to kill her, you know that..." Modo caught them both as they fell into his outstretched arms. "And if you keep this up, I _am_ going to lump you up good, pretty boy." He scruffed Caliber in one hand and pried the very dizzy and very green Chris free and into his other arm's safe embrace. The growl from the Biker held less venom than it had before, but both knew the threat was still a valid one. "Both of you need to sit down and take care of yourselves for now. We'll get things going here."

He carried them both back into the office area and settled Caliber back into the office he had been taken to earlier. "Stay off that ankle like Throttle told you for at least another day. Then we'll take another look at it. Got it?" He watched the russet Mouse hop over to the worn chair in the room and nod to the grey.

"I'll be good. Is she... Is Christine going to be alright?"

Modo nodded and turned to carry Chris to the room next door. "It's probably due to Kite. The Girls and Amber aren't worried." He noticed her skin flush red, then white quickly, her body growing very warm. "Chris, are you..."

"Bathroom... now... please..."

Modo didn't hesitate and got her into the bathroom with just enough time to set her down and hold her long hair back as the day so far took its toll on her worn body. He murmured softly by her ear as she mewled between heaves and rubbed her back, trying to help her soothe her frayed nerves. Charley poked her head into the room and winced.

"Amber said she wasn't doing good. She's pretty certain it's a lot of backlash from Kite's injuries that are still knocking her out. Get her comfortable, Modo, and I'll get to work where I can on Kite. I can't guarantee anything, but I'll try my best." She touched Chris' shoulder and sighed. "I'll definitely get as much sorted out as I can. Seeing her down like this, surly or no, is too much." She chuckled as Chris grumbled half-heartedly at the surly comment. "You are, so get better so you can be just as sour as usual. Got it?"

"... whatever..."

Charley winked at Modo as she headed back out of the bathroom. "I should be able to get the schematics for Kite without difficulty, even if the baby isn't responding to commands. It'll just take me a bit to do so. Remember, keep her calm, warm and quiet!"

"Will do... Wait, how am I supposed to keep her warm?! There aren't any blankets!" Modo blinked as Charley's laughter floated down the hall.

"You were doing a very good job of it earlier! What's to stop you from doing so again?"

Modo was very glad that Chris' head was resting on the rim of the toilet bowl and her eyes were closed as he blushed, remembering how he had woken earlier. At some point during the night he had wrapped both arms and his tail around Chris as they slept in a very intimate embrace.

He muttered at Charley's back, glad he couldn't be heard by the mechanic and that Chris was too far out of it to register his voice. "What's stopping me? Control that I'm losing the fight against..."

Every night Chris found herself curling into Modo's arms after a hard day's work fighting to revive Kite, fighting to keep Caliber out from under her feet, and fighting to keep a leash on her temper, and every night within moments she was blissfully unconscious with her head nestled against the Mouse's chest. She had ordered each room stripped down and cleaned in preparation for changing them out into bedrooms for the duration needed to get Kite repaired. Charley had been handed a debit card and told to get queen beds and bedding for each of them the first day they were in the makeshift hangar as well as basic kitchen items and supplies.

Even their food issue had been rectified quickly and with little fuss. The Bros had been afraid when the delivery from a local farm arrived, but the old farmer himself handled the delivery, and even though he was startled, the way his old eyes took in the situation confirmed why Chris trusted him as much as she did. He was one who easily took a secret to the grave.

And at night, they all retreated back into quiet rooms with comfortable beds, some solitary, others not, to recharge and mentally tally up the tasks that still lay ahead of them.

Modo had resigned himself to the fact that no matter how hard he struggled to remain as chaste as he could at night, he would inevitably wake with Chris held against him, her slight body sprawled on top of him and covered by his arms while his tail twined loosely around her leg and waist. He couldn't help himself. There was so much about her that was making him begin to rethink many things in his life, past and present.

He curled around her and watched her as she slept, the daily strain eased from her face in slumber and making her seem more elfin than human. Her large grey eyes still held a light of distrust in their depths, but as he was learning they told volumes of her thoughts if one paid attention. They shifted colors and moods subtly and were often hidden behind long lashes. Her face was as refined as a doll's face regardless of her tendency to get into fights and showcased her pale golden skin and full lips perfectly. Her entire build was willowy but well-curved, Modo was fairly certain someone had said she was a classic beauty when they had been working to replace the broken sidewalks around her garage in the city. She had heard it and said they were blind, there was nothing at all attractive with a sweaty, grimy, dust and cement-coated woman.

He had silently disagreed then, and he still did now as he pulled her closer to him as one of the windows let a soft breeze in, making her shiver slightly. Everything about her was a contradiction in what he had expected. She denied weakness in herself to the point where she would break down or collapse yet didn't expect or ask anyone to follow her lead. She was a neat freak that created a disaster every time she began a new project on Kite, parts strewn everywhere with her in the center of it. Aggressively anti-social but becoming more and more dependant on the ties of a unit that the Bikers and Charley offered her. She perplexed him and he was enjoying it.

The past few days had brought the Wingman a bit more out of his self-imposed shell as he tagged along after Chris like a puppy, vexing the grey to no end as well. It was becoming a competition between the two Mice as to who would pay her needs the most attention. What neither seemed to notice was the sheer amount of amusement their battle brought to the others. Modo kept himself content with the knowledge that at the end of the day she sought out his comfort. His tail squeezed her leg a bit more as he grinned at that thought.

Chris stirred slightly in his arms and winced. Modo's arms pulled her tight against his chest as another night terror tried to disrupt her sleep. "Shhh, you're safe, it can't hurt you here, I won't let it, bright star. Shhh..." She whimpered softly as his low voice murmured by her ear.

"She's having another terror, Modo?"

Modo lifted his head enough to get a look at the rumpled russet and nodded. "Sorry if it disturbed you." He wasn't at all sorry unless it woke the bros or Charley, but he could feign concern fairly well when he had to. Another faint moan forced him to return his attentions to Chris.

Caliber leaned in the doorframe, watching Modo as he tried to calm the mechanic while she slept. The russet found himself confused by Modo and the human's relationship and struggled once more as he tried to puzzle it out. If the woman even noticed the Biker's attentions she made absolutely no sign of it, simply continuing whatever task she was working on. Yet at night she shared the grey's bed, or he shared hers, Caliber wasn't positive about the original arrangement. And a part of his mind found that situation intolerable.

He stepped in, still cautious with his ankle and sat at the foot of the bed while ignoring the warning growl from Modo. "Shut it, Modo. If she's having a terror, the more who can help the better is the sound logic." Both Mice tried to stare each other down for a long moment before another rough shudder from the woman forced them to both forget their aggression.

Caliber settled into the upper corner of the bed and held one of Chris' hands while Modo kept his eye on him. "Don't worry, I won't do anything. Wingman's honor..."

Both Mice closed their eyes as the night wore on and Chris finally went still, the terror either gone or held at bay.


End file.
